Because You Smiled
by La Mort Cramoisi
Summary: Everyone always thought Snape hated James because of Quidditch or something equally petty. What if there was a totally different reason? SLASH JP/SS, some SB/RL. Rated R for language (a lot of it), violence, and non-graphic slash. WARNING: Character death
1. Because You Smiled

Because You Smiled 

  
Title: Because You Smiled  
Author: Ketsueki Ookami  
Pairing: JP/SS, implied SB/RL  
Rating: R Because Sev's thoughts are a 'bit' violent sometimes, and I can't count the foul words. Let it be said that there are a lot of them. If it really offends you and you can't bear to read it that way, send me an email and I'll edit the language for you because I'm just nice like that. (And I have a tendency to forget that other people don't have a mouth a sailor would be ashamed of. Heheheh…)  
Genre: ANGST! Supreme angst! Forgive me.  
Summary: A ficlet of sorts. Actually, it's more of a monologue. Nobody ever really knew why Snape hated James so much. Everyone assumed it was Quidditch talent. But there is an entirely different reason. What happens when obsession turns against you, and you find you hopelessly need the one thing you can't have?  
AN: Yeah, this is only gonna be a one go story. But if you like it…there are always others! Encourage me, please! Yes, I am begging for reviews.I have no shame.  
Disclaimer: Gah, I hate these things. I own nothing (but I really wish I did), J.K. Rowling, the WB, and all of her publishing companies own it all. I own nothing. Nada. Not even enough to be worth suing. Get the point?   
  
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I really wanted to hurt you that day. I wanted to make you bleed and scream and cry. I wanted you to be terrified like I was when that monster you call Moony was snapping and slavering at my heels. And I didn't want you to know that I caused it all. Then I would save you. I would save you and be done with you.   
  
I would listen to you glorify me at my feet, and tell me that we were more than even. That you owed me your life, and were forever indebted. And of course you wouldn't mope like I did. You're so fucking noble. It makes me want to gag sometimes. But what pushes me towards painful dry heaves is when I see you and your worthless mudblood woman talking and she's always giggling with her arms thrown around your neck and you kiss her every time she stops. She doesn't deserve you. She doesn't even know you.   
  
I knew you. I knew you long before Hogwarts. Before Black and Lupin and your stupid fanclub. We used to be such good friends. I saw you about half a year after graduation in Hogsmead. I asked you then. About what you think happened.   
  
All you could say was, "People grow apart as they get older. We got sorted into different houses, we got new friends, different interests, and you became a horrible unbearable source of torment…" And I could handle that.   
  
But then, out of the blue, you started yelling. "Of course I'm not your fucking friend! What, do you have your head up your ass?! You are a worthless piece of scum!"   
  
And then you grabbed my robes and pulled me close, so close our noses were touching. I was getting dizzy then. I thought you would kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me. To do something, anything, instead of say the words I knew were coming. Mudblood was there. She looked like she would faint. I hoped she would. It would distract you and then I could run.   
  
"Severus," you said. There was danger in your voice. "If one word, one single solitary word, reaches me about you being a Death Eater, I will do as my right and privilege states. You continue living only because I see fit. And at the time, IF it weren't for Moony and the trouble he and Sirius would get into, I probably wouldn't have seen fit to even save you. Your life is mine. I own you. And I will have nothing of mine bearing the Dark Mark."   
  
I had to retort somehow. I had to make it look like I had no reason to be scared. But I was terrified. Because your hand was now clutching my arm. Right over the Mark that was burnt into it the day after graduation. 'Shit', doesn't begin to describe it.   
  
The crowd that had gathered had soon dissipated. The people in Hogsmead knew you, and they knew (no matter what Dumbledore might say) that you were dangerous when you were angry. Fortunately, it also took an amazing amount of prodding to set you off. You weren't like me. I went off at the drop of a hat, spent my anger fairly quickly, and then held a 'because I have to' grudge for the next month. You built an emotional dam, took careful note of everything that pissed you off, and then regulated the emotional over flow until you needed all that anger to prove a point. I had always wished I had that talent; it must have been nice to have such control over your emotions at such a young age. And suddenly, the crowd that had been my lifeline was gone. There was nothing between me and certain death. Oh, goody. But what you did next shocked me beyond all belief.   
  
You really did kiss me. It was, by no means, soft or gentle or loving. It was an act of marking. I was your chattel, I was your possession. I was marked. And before I knew what was happening, I was indeed marked. Your mouth was hot and warm around my neck, an unbearably sexual pressure. You were applying a very large amount of suction, and your teeth found my skin once or twice, biting almost hard enough to draw blood. I could barely stand. And suddenly, you were gone from my neck, and holding me up. I found myself staring into your eyes. They were full of possessiveness, and a healthy dose of protection. That was when I caught the full implications of what had just happened. I was yours. Forever. And you would not stand for me being touched by anyone else. I wanted to hit you, but I couldn't find the strength to lift my arms. I wanted to hit you. Because you smiled.   
  
And then you were gone, walking in that annoying hip swaying walk you had. The one that can only be called a strut. Any other name didn't do the arrogance in the gait justice. But even I will admit that you have right to be arrogant, if only to myself. Once you were safely inside the Three Broomsticks, I turned and ran towards Hogwarts as fast as my legs could carry me. I had a man to see about a Mark…   
  
I'd really prefer not talk about exactly what happened in Dumbledore's office. Oh, I was so relieved he was there. Imagine trying to explain the reason it was so urgent I see him to McGonagall or Flitwick… Thank the gods that man's life is entirely dedicated to the school. The two things that surprised me were: he was totally unsurprised that I was a Death Eater, and he was by no means going to turn me over to the aurors. Okay, I take it back. Three things. That was when I found out that you had lost your parents to the Death Eaters two days prior. It certainly explained your outburst today. Your father had been an auror, your mother a housewife. They killed your father, then raped and killed your mother. They only did it because she was there. She had done nothing wrong. Those sick bastards. They would have killed you too if you hadn't been helping Black and Lupin move into their flat. They might have wanted to have their way with you too, being that you're so fucking beautiful. Those sick fucking bastards. I should rip their balls of and force feed 'em to them. Oh, wait. Black and Lupin are living together now? How fucking sweet. And for the first time in my life, I was thrilled that you always helped them with whatever they asked you to. Yes, if you need to ask, that information really did piss me off. What? I shouldn't have let it? What's done is done? Get of your high horse, Potter. I will be as pissed as I want about any injustice I did not personally visit on you. Those bastards had no fucking right. No, just…let me breathe for a minute…   
  
Okay, I think I'm alright now. No, really, I am. I remember once, for Order work, Dumbledore assigned you and me as partners. I was less than thrilled. Until, that is, I visited your rooms to discuss our work. I didn't know the pass word, so I just knocked. You called that the door was open, you were expecting me, come in! So I did. Another call, this time of, "I'm in the bedroom!" Well… You were lying on the bed in black pants and a short black robe that hung open, revealing your bare chest. They were silk or something like it. I don't know. You always had put comfort before practicality. You could afford to do that, I suppose. You were reading an advanced transfiguration book, and your glasses had slipped down on your nose. They were perfect for you, not like the big ugly ones I saw mudbloods wearing. They had small silver frames and thin delicate lenses of charmed glass. They were sort of rectangular in shape, and in their current position they only covered the bottom halves of your eyes. Your hair was still quite long at that point; Evans only made you cut it the day before you got married. She said it was because the women would all over her 'Jamie' if you didn't. Personally, I don't think it was women she was worried about. You always had leaned a bit more towards feminine beauty. I think it was the eyes. Your eyes made all the difference. It was tied back with a thin black ribbon, presumably made of the same fabric as your clothes. I found I was lost once again in the deep blue sea that was your eyes. I wanted to drown in them, to get lost forever and never have to face the fact that baiting me was no more than a game to you. And I hate myself for it.   
  
"Do you like transfiguration, Severus?"   
  
It was a start at a real conversation. Not a threat, not about business or the Order. You were really going to talk to me. And I had no clue what to say. "Uh…no, I was…never very good at it," I finally admitted.   
  
"Really? Would you like some help?"   
  
Now this was where I drew the line. I would not accept your help! I wouldn't make it through a lesson without succumbing to the torment of your scent, your presence. Gods, your presence. I wouldn't let you. You wouldn't help me. You would just mock me. And I would be crushed because of something I knew was going to happen. I would have let down all of my defenses for something that I knew would just leave me broken. And that was unacceptable.   
  
As if sensing my thoughts, you started talking again. "You know, I was never very good with potions."   
  
This was more than I could take. "What the hell are you talking about?! You always got top marks in everything!"   
  
You laughed. "That was only because the professor put so much emphasis on theory and so little on practice. I can grasp the theory fine; I know what certain ingredients do when added. You know, properties, side effects, common uses and the like."   
  
"It sounds like you grasp potions just fine to me."   
  
"Oh come off it! You've seen me blow up a cauldron brewing a simple Shrinking Solution! Something always goes wrong in the mixing. I can't ever get it to work right. Cooking is the same, you know. I add all the ingredients, do exactly what the recipe says, and then…it invariably comes out an inedible and sometimes burnt slop." I couldn't help but laugh. Here I was, discussing the cooking skills of my sworn enemy. You smiled at me.   
  
"So, how about this: I'll teach you whatever you want to know about transfiguration, and you help me with potions?" It was an idea I could agree to, and you knew it. It put us on equal ground. I could accept your lessons and not feel like I was putting myself more in your debt, and you could say you were only spending time with me because you needed help on your potion making skills. A fair trade all around. Still, that was a lot of time alone with you… But right then, I had to agree. I really had no choice in the matter. Why? Because you smiled.   
  
We spent a lot of time together in your room under those pretenses. Time full of your suggestive clothing, ethereal beauty, and (gods) your smile. There were 'accidental' touches and brushes of lips on skin. You drove me mad. There were days when I wanted to throw you down on your bed and make you scream my name. I didn't want you, I think, because you were a man. You were the first and to this day only man I have been attracted to. I think, as hopelessly romantic as this sound before it's properly explained, that I wanted you because you were you. You had been my obsession since the moment the sorting hat put me in Slytherin without you and I had realized we would probably never be friends again. I think I had become so obsessed with winning you back that my obsession became love. Not that lovey-dovey sickly sweet kind that little girls dream of, but the dark, brooding, consuming and destructive kind. You know, true love. An emotion, an obsession, so deep it bonds the souls of the involved together. You saving me just acted as a catalyst. It bonded our souls partially, but the emotion I felt did the rest. It was some time during those lessons that I realized I could always feel you. You were like a warm presence in the back of my mind. I knew when you were hurt or angry, and that's why I was so terrified of upsetting you. Not because you would hurt me, but because I could feel it too.   
  
I awoke, Halloween night, to first a splitting headache, then rushes of pain throughout my body, and finally a cold empty feeling. Like part of me was missing. I knew what had happened right away, and I rushed to find Dumbledore as fast as I could. Unfortunately, I never found him. What I found instead was the ruins of Godric's Hollow, your ancestral home, and the aurors pulling your body out of them. You hardly looked like you anymore. Your skin was pale and sallow in death, your eyes dull, and your mouth slack. Your limbs hung at odd angles, obviously having been broken, and ribbons and rivulets of blood and sweat dripped off of you. Your hair was matted in more of the same, making it look dull and greasy. I burst into sobs then and there, uncaring of who saw me. Dumbledore soon found me, and put a comforting arm around my shoulders. Normally I would have shrugged him off, but I didn't have the strength to care. Part of me was dead. The best part. You were dead, and I was all alone in the world. Three days later, at the funeral, Dumbledore mentioned that they would need a new Potions professor the coming year. Inwardly, I jumped at the chance. You had said that I should be a professor, that I should teach, that I was more than skilled enough. Outwardly, I merely said I had nothing to do. Thus, I became the Hogwarts Potions professor, and soon after a Potions Master. I let my skin sallow and neglected my hair. I felt dead, and I wanted to look as though I felt. I had lost my much beloved enemy, the only thing constant in my life.   
  
And then your son came to Hogwarts. I had secretly hoped he would be put in Slytherin. If that had happened, I would have been allowed to dote on him, no questions asked. I had always favored the Slytherins. But of course, he was a Gryffindor. I had really known he would be. How couldn't he have? You had been so brave. Too brave, sometimes, but an honorable trait nonetheless. That boy did not like me from the moment he saw me. Two minutes into his first class, I had decided that he must have been Black's son instead. You had always been fair and slow to judge, even if judgments were almost irrevocably final. Black was rude, hot-tempered, and stupid. Book-smart maybe, but hopeless with people. Everything was always good or bad. I think you recognized more gray areas than I did. There were no gray areas with this little brat. I watched him grow up, and I saved his life more than once because like it or not he was part of you and I would do anything to keep you alive in any way possible.   
  
But he's grown now, and I have nothing left to keep alive. I don't think that anyone, not even Dumbledore, maybe not even you, realized that I loved you. Everyone thought I hated you. Which I do. I hate you for leaving me. But that doesn't matter. I'm with you now. The grass on your grave is cool and sweet, and it smells of spring and Quidditch. The poison in my veins is working fast, and I will be with you. The hole in me was too large. There was nothing left of me. I had no will to live. I lived for you, but what good was that? It didn't bring you back to me. So now I die for you. And as I lay here on your grave, poison like liquid fire in my body, killing me quickly and efficiently, Peace washes over me at last. Because I see you standing there with arms outstretched to greet me, my personal reminder that sometimes courage is letting go. Because you look so understanding of me, not disappointed like I had feared. And because you smile.  
  
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*sniff* So sad. Review my story. Don't make Sevie die in vain! *Bursts into tears* Okay, I'm better. No really, review. Or him and Jamie will come back from the grave to haunt you.  
Sevie: Yeah! I worked hard on that death scene!  
Jamie: We know you did. *pats head reassuringly*  
Sevie: *glares*  
  



	2. A Housewife by Design

Title: Because You Smiled, Part Two: A Housewife by Design  
  
Author: Ketsueki Ookami  
  
Pairing: JP/SS, JP/LP, implied SB/RL Summary: Another side of the story. What did Lily think? Others in the works. AN: Well, since you guys liked it so much. I'll continue! I'll probably end up writing the back-story in pretty intensive detail if you guys keep it up like this! Soon to come (based on amount of reviews): POVs of Sirius, Remus, Lucius (? I'm debating it.), aaaaaaaaaand of course James. Yeah, he comes last. So if you wanna read it, you gotsta review it. Seems fair enough to me. Ten reviews total and I'll post the next chapter. That's just five a chapter, come on, you can do it!  
  
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I knew. Of course I knew. It's hard not to notice that your husband has been gone so much lately, and when he comes home he smells of men's cologne and it's not his. I knew who he was with. Oh no, he never told me anything. He never gave a weak lie that aided in solving the puzzle either. What did he have to lie about? After all, I never said anything.  
What else could I expect? We had dated because we wanted to, and married because we had to. It was expected of him, the perfect pure-blood son of a wealthy couple of the social elite. And what else was there for me? My mother and father were dead. Should I have stayed with my sister, my horrible muggle sister who pretended that I was some orphan they took in off the streets? Some days I wish I was. She probably would have loved me more.  
He was a charming, handsome, young scamp who came and swept me off my feet. A sweet-heart of my youth, not the man I was meant to marry. It was a crush, an infatuation that he let go on because he needed a mask. He needed a way to hide his discontentment with everything around him. His friends, his family, and me. He wanted so much more than us. He wanted.you. He wanted you and everything that you stood for. He wanted danger, he wanted excitement and challenge. He wanted someone to talk to.  
He was, first and foremost a scholar. A prankster, a ruffian, a scoundrel, a scamp and a ne'er-do-good, yes. But a scholar through and through. I, unfortunately, was a housewife by design. A stereotypical, boring, mundane housewife. It was what I was raised to be. It was all I knew. He wanted to go exotic places and see things, learn things, live life out of a suitcase. I wanted a big house and a big family. What I wanted was what I had once had. And that of course, is why I wanted it so badly. I wanted the family I lost all too soon. He wanted an escape from the family that he could never escape.  
It was in his parents' will, the clause that started it all. It had said that he wouldn't get a single Knut until after he had married. He just shrugged and said that there were more important things than money. I asked him, "Don't you love me?" He said that of course he loved me, which was why he didn't want to marry me. It was generally decided that he had been unhinged by the loss of his last living relatives, and that he hadn't meant it. I shattered every little romantic fantasy I had ever had, and asked him to marry me. He didn't respond. He just sat and stared out of the window. But that was just the grief talking (or not talking), I told myself. We would go ahead with plans, and if he really didn't want to, we would call it off. It was the sensible thing to do. It was the Evans thing to do. It was not, however, the James Potter thing to do.  
He never made any sort dissent to it, so we were married almost immediately. Sirius was the best man, and he had tried to convince Remus to be my maid of honor. I must say I was shocked. I had known the two were close, but not that they were lovers. I hadn't even thought that men really did take male lovers sometimes. Chalk it up to naïveté, I suppose. I had been so hopelessly sheltered from the outside world growing up. I was kind of glad when Remus wholeheartedly declined. I didn't really want.you know.  
We went shopping a week before the wedding, as I had insisted that he have new dress robes. That was when he made that.spectacle.of himself. I couldn't believe it. I had never been so embarrassed. I never said anything though. I had been raised with the (somewhat, at that time) antiquated idea that women obeyed their husbands, and I didn't think that I should break years of tradition over one little incident and some minor embarrassment.  
That was before you joined the Order. He started spending so much time away from home. He said it was because of Order business, and who was I to believe otherwise? But he changed. He became withdrawn and distant around me. He didn't eat much when he was home, but he hadn't lost any weight, so he was eating plenty elsewhere. He didn't want to make love any more. Sometimes he wouldn't even sleep in our bed. I would find him asleep on the couch, coddling a pillow to him like a person, sleep-mumbling that he was so lonely. Well if he was so lonely, why was he sleeping on the couch instead of in our marriage bed where he belonged? I would have suspected a woman, but what woman wore musky men's cologne?  
Then I saw Sirius and Remus at Hogsmead one day. It all fell into place. They were cuddled up at a corner table and Remus was nuzzling into Sirius' neck. "Ohhhhh.You smell so good." "You will too if you keep rubbing all of my cologne off!" I ran over and forced a smile, asking if they would help in a most important matter. Such as identifying some cologne. We went back to Godric's Hollow and I quickly located the shirt James had been wearing he came home the previous night, changed, and took off again. I said that he hadn't wanted to come home smelling less than perfect for some time alone with me (Remus laughed in a strange, nervous way) and so he had borrowed some cologne from a member of the Order. I told them I had absolutely fallen in love with it, and I wanted to fetch some as a surprise. Sirius hadn't a clue. Remus, Remus however, had said it smelled sort of like the scented oil that you were so fond of wearing and that maybe (he started laughing) I should ask you. There was my answer. I forced myself to laugh along with them, but inside my stomach was filled with lead. How could it be? You weren't.you weren't even a member of the Order! You couldn't have been! You had to be a Death Eater! You had to! Briefly, the unpleasant thought that perhaps James was a Death Eater as well crossed my mind. He certainly had the blood for it. But I shook that thought away quickly, it simply wouldn't do. An owl tapped on the sitting room window soon after, and we all instantly recognized it as Lillith, the haughty epitome of feminine supremacy that James called a messenger. Sirius and Remus excused themselves, saying that we would surely prefer some time alone after so long separation. I wished they wouldn't go. James arrived shortly thereafter, and I had had just enough time to get dinner ready. I made his favorite food, and wore my prettiest robes, in hopes that he would notice what he was ignoring. In hopes that he would realize that he was leaving a wonderful, normal, life for some sick little sodomist fantasy that would never work. It shocked me that I felt that way, I had no problem with Sirius or Remus anymore, but I guess it was because James was mine. He was mine and I didn't want to share. Especially not with you. He seemed to notice, because that night was a brilliant romantic whirlwind of feeding each other, and slow dancing, and. and.well.there's no point in lying. I had the best sex of my life that night. But I can't help but wonder.was it you he was thinking about?  
Soon after we found out that I was pregnant. He looked truly happy in my presence for the first time since before we married. He was so proud. He wanted a little girl. I wanted a little boy. Remus thought a girl would be fantastic, Sirius said little girls were no fun. I still wanted a boy. Of course a girl would be nice. But no little boy has to grow up to worry about all of the things that I was. No woman deserves what I went through. But it wasn't his fault. It was never James' fault. It was all your fault. All of it. I wished you would just crawl off and die.  
One time, he said that he was meeting someone for Order business, and asked if I could stay out of the way. "Not that you're a nuisance or any such thing, love! It's just quite confidential, you know how it is." He said it with such love, such emotion in his eyes, that I had to comply. That was the day that I found you two, in the back greenhouse. He was pushing you against the wall, and you were clinging madly to his hair. I had never seen such a kiss. It was so rough. He was devouring you. All I could do was turn and flee as quickly as I could manage, with tears running down my cheeks, clutching my swollen belly. I was due in two weeks, and he was in the greenhouse ravaging the mouth of another man. Not only that, but he seemed to enjoy it much more than he enjoyed any of our kisses.  
I got myself so worked up that I guess it was all the baby could do, and soon I was lying on the floor of our bedroom, sobbing and screaming his name. H ran up the stairs, I could hear it and burst into the room. His lips were still red and swollen from kissing you, but I didn't care. He was with me. He sent you away and owled the midwife. Then he helped me to the bed and kissed my face and cooed that he loved me. I believed him. I always believed him. Even after witnessing him snogging you senseless in the greenhouse. Maybe you were the silly little infatuation, and our young romance had been meant to be.  
The birth was long and painful. Soon after the midwife arrived, he went to owl Sirius and Remus. You as well, I presume. Then he rushed back in, and he cooed and kissed my face and held my hand the whole way through. It was a boy, a beautiful baby boy that we named Harry after his great uncle Harold. Harold had been the only member of hi family that he was close to, and he had died when James was twelve.  
Sirius was so proud when we told him that we wanted him to be Harry's godfather. That was when I noticed you in the corner. You were glaring at me like there was no tomorrow. I could have screamed at you. I could have killed you. Here I was, lying in my marriage bed, holding the child that I conceived with my husband, and you were glaring at me? You, the marriage ruining interloper, were glaring at me, the proud wife and mother? Ha. You would never glare at me again. I would see to it. So I reached up with my free arm for James, holding our still suckling baby in the other, and he leaned down to me. I kissed him slowly and leisurely, taking my time, enjoying myself, and I took great satisfaction when he kissed me back right in front of you. Take that, bastard. He's mine. He always was, and he always will be. Even now, you're just an interloper. You don't belong. 


	3. A Stained and Tainted Soul

Title: Because You Smiled, Part Three: A Stained and Tainted Soul  
  
Author: Ketsueki Ookami  
  
Pairings: JP/SS, JP/LP, SB/RL  
  
Summary: Another side of the story. What went on with Sirius all those years in Azkaban? Just how does he feel about the blood on his hands? A murderer tells his nightmare, literally. More in the works.  
  
AN: Soon to come (based on amount of reviews): POVs of Remus, Lucius (It is decided! He will indeed receive a short interlude!), aaaaaaaaaand of course James. Yeah, he comes last. So if you wanna read it, you gotsta review it. Seems fair enough to me, being that I have revoked the dreaded review count rule. Gimme some reviews and I'll post the next chapter. That's just a few more, come on, you can do it!  
  
Thank Yous: Thanks to the wonderful Bellisario, Lena, and Ilona for reviewing my story. And come on Bell, I'm only asking for five reviews a chapter! That shouldn't take very long! But.as you can see, I'll add when I get some reviews. Sooos, just keep reviewing and I'll keep it coming.  
  
WARNING: Large amounts of gore! (And some sap. How do you fit gore and sap together in four pages of the same story? I must be talented) If you get a little sick or squicked, then I suggest you just stop reading this chapter. Don't flame me because of the fact that I can handle this. If you can't, just stop. If you feel the need to tell me you had to stop, do so nicely. You do not, for any reason, need to read this to fully understand the series. I am posting it because you may want to. These little monologues are all linked, but could definitely stand alone. And yes, I will count a complaint about gore as a review.  
  
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I can still remember it like yesterday. Every last detail. His death has faded, finding his body has blurred, but I can tell you everything about twelve years in Azkaban in detail so gory I could make you scream. I could make you scream until your vocal cords shredded themselves into a gory tatter, and you'd still be trying to cry out. You'd be sobbing on the ground begging for mercy, begging me to stop, before I got through my first month. That's how it is, Remus. That's just how it is.  
I can tell you what Dementors sound like when they're hungry. I can tell you what that cold slimy flesh feels like against your skin. I can tell you about getting the shit beaten out of me by real Death Eaters before they moved me to my own cell. The Death Eaters hated me. Either they were low-level ones, who thought I set Voldemort up; or they were from the inner circle and wanted to give me shit because I didn't do it. I lost either way.  
People there knew I didn't do it! They knew! Those bastards knew I wasn't guilty! They knew about Pettigrew. If they wanted the traitor so much, why not tell the guards? Because they just wanted to see me rot away with them. I missed you Remus, with all my soul. Even when I thought you were the traitor, I loved you. I love you. Never doubt that. At first, I thought only of you. About how I had been wrong. And how I missed you so much it felt like my insides were being eaten away. They weren't happy thoughts, no. But they were thoughts. Then, my thoughts started turning towards Wormtail. I couldn't help it, it was like a drug. An obsession. But I'm sure it's the only reason I came out of there alive and in some semblance of sanity.  
Yes, some semblance of sanity. Listen to me, Remus. I'm about to tell you something I've never shared with anyone before. It.it started three months in. I had these.dreams. I couldn't remember them to start with. But that's the way of recurring dreams, isn't it? At first they taunt you, then they bother you, then they disturb you, and soon you can feel yourself coming unhinged with every passing night. At least, I could. The content was.less than desirable.  
These dreams, these damnable dreams, were always the same. I am sitting in the ruins of Godric's Hollow. What had once been the sitting room. It is dark, and the stars are faintly red in the night sky. The carpet.reeks of blood and death. Or maybe it is sex. Does it disturb you, that death and sex smell so similar to me? Rest assured, death-scent of this brand is almost identical. It is the scent of death by Cruciatus. The scent of blood and sweat and physical exertion. The differences are so subtle. There are still screams and howls lingering on the air. If I listen, I can hear them. I am sitting on a large damp stain. I bring my hand down to it, and then look at my fingers. Blood. James' blood. But that is hardly the worst of it.  
"Hello, Padfoot old friend."  
The voice echoes, but it echoes in a strangely muted way. As though the speaker is in a foggy tunnel, and whatever sound isn't absorbed right away bounces around in disjointed patterns. I turn slowly. I don't want to look; I don't want to believe it. I am confronted with James. Not James as we knew him. He is mangled, and blood flows freely off of him, as though it is seeping out of his very pores. His skin is deathly white, and I stand. I take two steps, three. I am in front of him. I reach my hand out and touch his cheek. He is cold, and his skin is stiff. His eyes are dull, his hair is matted. He is a walking, talking corpse. And he laughs at me. A cold, cruel high pitched laugh that I didn't know he was capable of. The laugh sounds so.damaged. So.deranged. It is not the laugh of my friend. It is the laugh of a killer. Abruptly, the laughing stops. Slim, cold fingers are wrapped gently around my neck.  
"You killed me, Sirius."  
"No, James! I.it was an accident! I didn't know! I didn't-"  
The fingers tighten and I start to sob. I can feel the irregularities of shattered bones and snapped sinew under the torn flesh. But there is still strength in these broken hands. Large amounts of strength. I feel as though my neck will be snapped, and I grasp frantically at the hands.  
"James, what-.." I pant. "What are you-...uh, ah-?" I manage to gasp out enough of the question to be understood. He smiles. His teeth are stained with blood.  
"I'm taking your life, Sirius. Isn't it only fair? You took mine, did you not?" He releases me and I crumple to the ground. "You had a hand in it, you know. Look, Sirius. My blood is on your hands."  
I look down at my palms. They are indeed coated with blood. It pools in my palms and drips from my fingertips. I scrub my hands franticly on my dirty robes. I have noticed that these robes get dirtier and my hair gets more matted with every dream. It makes me wonder sometimes, if they are indeed dreams. The blood will not come off. I run from the ruins, to the pond in the back garden. I plunge my hands into the freezing water, and scrub them on the grass. Nothing works. All of my efforts simply make the blood spread.  
"There is no denying it, Sirius." The voice, James' voice, is sing- song and mocking. I turn around, livid.  
"I didn't kill you! It wasn't my fault! Go back to your rest! Stop tormenting me!" I am sobbing again. It makes James laugh.  
"You can't deny the truth forever, Si-ri-us." He is circling me, taunting me. He is a spirit unwilling to accept his fate, and he will not move on until vindicated. I wonder what it would take to pay him back, to open the pathway to the Otherworld for him. I wonder if my death would be enough. He grabs me from behind, and once again those cold slim hands are wrapped around my throat. I struggle and cry, but he is too strong. Soon I feel the life fading from my body, and I hear him laugh.  
I always wake up then, cold and sweating. The thing that clenches it in my mind, that proves these are not dreams, is the hand prints. Every time, I would awake screaming and sweating, shaking in anguish. I would bring my hands to my neck, to reassure myself that it was just a dream. And they would always be there. I could feel them. Warm and swollen, and undoubtedly red. He had been there. I knew it. He was dead. And like a shark in the water, he was after my blood.  
These.visits, I guess I should call them now that you know their true nature. They continued for the duration of my stay in Azkaban, and for quite some time after. It wasn't until the incident with Harry in the Shrieking Shack that James left me in peace. It still shocks me how simple the solution was.  
"Going to kill me, Harry?"  
"You killed them!"  
"I don't deny it, but if you knew the whole story." That was when it hit me. I had killed James. And.I had admitted it.  
I had another dream that night. It was.different from the others. I am sitting in the ruins of Godric's hollow again. It is day this time. The ruins are old, and there is grass and flowers growing in them. I am sitting on the stain, but it is faint and dry. Birds fly amongst the trees, and I spot a stag next to the pond. I stay where I am sitting, fearing interaction with the man who so haunted me. I fear interaction with my own best friend. James transforms, and he stands. There is no blood. He is once again animated and handsome. He walks towards me, slowly and calmly. He leaves small indented footprints in the grass.  
"Sirius."  
"Stay.stay away! I did it! I did it, alright?! I killed you!" I start sobbing. "I killed you.It's all my fault."  
He smiles sadly at me and takes my hand, pulling me up from the ground. I do not resist. He takes me in his arms and we stand there, rocking slowly back and forth on our feet. I recognize the gesture as what I did to comfort him when news of his parents' deaths had reached him.  
"Yes and no, Sirius. You killed me, yes. But it is not all your fault. Peter killed me, Voldemort killed me, and Dumbledore killed me, and Remus killed me, and Lily killed me, and Harry killed me, and I killed myself. And there are so many more."  
I look at him, tilting my head slightly to look into his eyes. He is very tall. Harry will never reach his height. "I.don't understand."  
"We all had a hand in my death, Sirius. Some of us more than others. You have accepted your responsibility. Now you must forgive yourself."  
"How? How can I forgive myself?!"  
"I don't know, Sirius. I have forgiven you."  
"What?"  
"You have accepted your responsibility. So now I can forgive you. I can forgive you because you understand. I can move on now."  
"Have you forgiven the others?"  
"Some will never be forgiven." I know he is referring to Voldemort and Wormtail. "Some will not be ready to realize the part they played until they themselves have died."  
"Harry?"  
"Yes. My Harry." He smiles fondly. I know he and Lily were having problems with the marriage towards the end, whether or not they would admit it. However, He still loved Harry. I admired that. Many a man would turn and walk away. Many a man would ignore their son completely, out of spite for the mother. James was never one for punishing a person for another's faults. "Harry has Lily to watch over him. There are others I must watch."  
I don't ask who. I know, and it disgusts me. But James is James, and James has taken a lot of jobs I wouldn't have touched with a ten foot broomstick in the past. I admire that also.  
"So.you're going now?"  
"Yes." He pulls me close, holds me tight, and I drown in his warmth and his scent. He's so real. I never want to let go. He leans in and kisses my cheek. It is a brotherly gesture, and I welcome it. He holds me at arms length and looks into my eyes. I can't stop myself from crying. This time, though, they are happy tears. "Take care of yourself, Sirius. And Remus and Harry. They need you."  
I hold him close, happy for the chance to say goodbye. "I'll miss you."  
"There's no need to miss me. Some bonds are far too strong to be broken. Like bonds of love."  
"Of love?"  
"Yes. Love. Sirius, you are a brother to me. Nothing can change that. I love you like family. More than family. Just think of me, and I'll be with you in my own way."  
"You promise?"  
"Yeah. I promise."  
I awoke in the morning feeling peaceful and sated. The air was fresh.well, as fresh as it can be in the summertime, and for the first time in almost thirteen years I was ready to admit that it was a beautiful day. Well, almost. So I thought of James and forgiveness. And then it was. 


	4. Immorality

  
  
Title: Because You Smiled  
Author: La Mort Cramoisi (Same person, duh, new name, yay!)  
Pairing: JP/SS, implied SB/RL  
Rating: R   
Genre: ANGST! Supreme angst! Forgive me.   
Summary: Remus. Yeah. Remus. I don't know if I like this…actually, I know I don't like this….but it's been so long…soo…I might add an alternate version of this chapter later. If you want it, do ask.   
AN: Yeah, this was only gonna be a one go story. But you know how it goes! Encourage me, please! Yes, I am begging for reviews. I have no shame. Also, will anyone interested in beta-ing a non-slash AU story please contact me ASAP? I'm really cooking on that one.   
Disclaimer: Gah, I hate these things. I own nothing (but I really wish I did), J.K. Rowling, the WB, and all of her publishing companies own it all. I own nothing. Nada. Not even enough to be worth suing. Get the point?  
Because You Smiled, Chapter Four: Immorality   
  
Remus  
  
  
I sighed heavily. I did not need the extra work. But anything for the Order, right? So there I was, standing outside James's rooms to tell him that Albus needed.something. He hadn't said what. No…wait. He had said that James would know. That's what he had said. But there I was.   
  
James had a tricky door. I knew the secret, but few did. The door was keyed to certain people, and whoever it was keyed to could enter freely. Most people thought it worked on a password system like the other doors. James wasn't stupid. He, of all people, knew all too well that passwords could be found out. So in I went.   
  
And got the shock of my life. James was holding you down on his bed, and you were panting and heaving underneath him. It wasn't, however, the kind of panting and heaving I was comfortable with you doing under James. It was the kind of panting and heaving Lily was supposed to be doing under James. Lily. But not you. You were both fully clothed, and he was doing something I recognized to your neck. I recognized it, in fact, because he spent half of our seventh year watching Sirius do it to me.   
  
He bit you a bit hard and you arched up, eyes half open. You saw me then. Not knowing what else to do, I fled. I flat out ran for my life. If you didn't kill me, James would make me wish you had. This was a secret I did not want to be the keeper of.   
  
I heard James cursing behind me, and I could see him looking between us in my minds eye. I felt a kind of bitter victory. So he swam on both sides of the river, huh? Take that, conventional wizarding society. But still I ran.   
  
This was a dangerous game I was playing. True, I could run faster than most, and longer than many, but… an animagus has the characteristics of the animal they transform into. Also to be truthful, James could probably run longer than I could. He could probably run through a brick wall if he wanted to, since he was in peak physical condition, unlike myself. In other words, I was in some deep shit. Hooray for me, huh?   
  
I ran for quite some time, until I got to Hogsmeade. I didn't think he was following me anymore. So I headed back to the castle, sticking to the forest beside the path instead of walking on it. That's when I saw I was catching up to him. It would best to stay back, I know. But I was curious. So I crept behind him, ever the careful hunter, ever the wolf. I saw you coming up the path towards us. I stopped. He stopped a minute after me.   
  
"Did you get him?"   
  
"Don't be stupid, does it look like I got him?"   
  
"No…I'm sorry."   
  
"You should be."   
  
"How did he get in?"   
  
"The door's keyed to him. He can get in whenever he wants."   
  
"…Oh. But then."   
  
"Yeah, it's keyed to you too."   
  
"Uh…James I."   
  
He pulled you into an embrace. You immediately nuzzled down into his neck. This wasn't a casual fling. This wasn't new to you. This wasn't typical Snape behaviour! You weren't supposed to be affectionate! Snarky, cruel….evil even! But not affectionate! All of my thoughts were stilled again, because you looked up and kissed him. But it wasn't a possessive kiss. It was a gentle, submissive, 'may I' kiss. So this was it. He had you trained, huh?   
  
"Mmm...you smell good."   
  
"Smell good?"   
  
"Hnn. I like it."   
  
"I stink. I've got to go home later. I can't go home smelling like this. Lily would throw a tizzy fit."   
  
"Hm. Come back to the room. You can wear mine."   
  
"Wear yours?'   
  
James raised a slender and inquisitive eyebrow. He looked….he looked. Oh, I love Sirius, but James is just…just…mmm. Yeah, just…mmm. Yeah.   
  
"…Fine. Yeah, I'll wear yours. Come on."   
  
And then you both turned and walked back towards Hogwarts, chatting about something. He was laughing and you were nodding your head. Whatever you were talking about, it must have been something you liked. You really…came alive, talking to James. As though you were only half alive when you were away. You were cynical and cold when he wasn't with you. Mind you, I think you've always been cynical, but you seemed…more at ease with my friend by your side. Less at odds with the world.   
  
I turned, once I couldn't hear your happy voices anymore, and I walked off in the direction of Hogsmeade again. A little into main street, I was grabbed from behind. My whole body tensed, I was ready to fight. Ready to kick some major arse, when.   
  
"Hey, Remus! Calm down! 'S just me. Just me. Shhhh."   
  
Every muscle in my body went from super tightly strung to…well, mush. Pudding. A giant Remus-shaped gelatine mould. Take your pick.   
  
"Sirius! You scared me."   
  
"I know I did, love. You were ready to make me eat mud."   
  
"Sorry."   
  
"'S okay." Sirius shivered. "'S windy out here. Let's go someplace. How about the Three Broomsticks?"   
  
"Sounds good."   
  
We stomped off to the Three Broomsticks, hoping our table in the corner would be free. Sure enough, it was. Rosmerta greeted us with a big smile and gestured on over to our table. We sat down happily and soon she was bustling over with sandwiches and mulled mead.   
  
"The usual, I presume boys?"   
  
Sirius smiled and laughed. Gods, he's breathtaking when he laughs. "Oh, 'Merta! You're too good to us, you know! You'll have us rogues spoiled to our wits end!"   
  
"That's the idea, Sirius-love, that's the idea. Someone has to domesticate you, you know. I don't think poor Remus is up to the task."   
  
I blushed right up to the roots of my hair. Maybe past that. My scalp might have been blushing too, I was so red.   
  
"At any rate, boys, I thought I should warn you. We've got one of those preachy Ministry types in here today. Says homosexual relationships never last."   
  
"No!" Sirius looked appalled.   
  
"That's what he's been saying. Says you're only looking for sex, and you're all plagues on society and you should be put down."   
  
Sirius's face was a mask of determination. "Oh does he, now."   
  
I don't like it when Sirius gets that look on his face. It usually leads to me being made a public spectacle of. This time wasn't any different. Sirius jumped out of his chair, and climbed onto the table.   
  
"Excuse, me, excuse me! Ah, good! Can you all hear me? Fantastic! I would like to introduce all of you lovely ladies and gentleman to my beautiful lover, Mr. Remus Lupin."   
  
Oh, yes. Just let the earth open up and swallow me now. Please.   
  
"I…I really wanted to ask you this in a more private place, Remus, but… "   
  
Sirius jumped down off the table and grabbed my shoulder. I opened my mouth to curse him to the nether reaches of the Underworld…but I looked into his eyes and my mind just went blank. As usual.   
  
"Remus Lupin, my most beautiful of friends and companions, whom I have loved since seeing you on platform 9 and ¾ when we were eleven….will you be my bond mate?"   
  
Okaaaaaaay….waait. Did I say my mind was blank before? Well it was nothing to this blankness. This was the epitome of blankness. The image of blankness. If you picked up a dictionary and looked up blank, you would have seen a picture of me.   
  
I stood and took a step forward. Then I promptly collapsed into Siri's arms. I stood there and nuzzled into his neck.   
  
"Does this mean yes?"   
  
"No."   
  
"What?!"   
  
I picked an empty tankard up off of our table. Then I proceeded to beat Sirius furiously about the head with it.   
  
"It means how DARE you humiliate me like this in public, Si-ri-us O-ri-on Black! And." I dropped my tankard. "Of course I will, you big loveable moron!"   
  
Rosmerta burst out laughing. We both turned to look at her.   
  
"What?!"   
  
"Ohhh." She wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "You two act like an old married couple already!"   
  
Sirius and I turned to look at each other, blinked, then started laughing hysterically ourselves. A while later, I was sitting almost in Sirius's lap in our corner, and 'Merta just kept the wine coming. I snuggled up to his neck and inhaled deeply. Gods, I loved his scent.   
  
"Hnnn, Siri, you smell so good."   
  
He laughed. "You will too, if you keep rubbing all of my cologne off!"   
  
Lily walked in at about that moment, and she rushed over to our table. Best way I know of to ruin the mood.   
  
"Can you two help me? It's kind of important. I need to know about some cologne."   
  
Sirius smiled. "Yeah, sure."   
  
Way to go, Sirius. Ruin the mood some more. At any rate, mood ruined or not, I'm sure you can guess what happened from there.  



	5. Faith Is Where Your Loyalties Lie

  
  
Title: Because You Smiled, Part Five: Faith Is Where Your Loyalties Lie   
Author: La Mort Cramoisi   
Pairing: JP/SS   
Rating: R   
Warnings: Nothing particularly offensive here, unless you object to snotty Slytherins.   
Summary: Lucius is…well, Lucius is Lucius. What's new? The relationship that's tearing everyone apart through the eyes of a Death Eater.   
A/N: I know it's short, but it's just a nice little interlude before the grand finale. One more chapter, guys, and it's aaaaaaaaall over. Any suggestions or request on what I tackle next? I love challenge fics.  


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I will not stand for it being said that I was a traitor. That must be known, first and foremost. Lucius Malfoy is not a traitor. To be treacherous, you must first be allied with someone or something. A Malfoy is allied with one thing only, self-preservation. That, I did not fail. I'm sitting here perfectly calmly, hands wrapped around a delicate china cup, sipping an expensive tea, very much alive, am I not? Then it must be said, Headmaster, that I was very true to my instincts of self-preservation.   
  
What was that? Severus? No, I had no idea he would go so far. What exactly are you getting at? Did I know? You amuse me. Of course I knew. Why didn't I say anything? Why not alert the Dark Lord? What was to be gained from it? I had no reason. As I've said before, with him was not where my loyalties lie.   
  
You didn't know? Come now, Dumbledore. Tell you about it? You want me to sully my mouth with an account of the whole torrid affair? Don't look at me like that. I won't do it, and you know it. The beginning? If you insist…   
  
The first I knew of it, they must have been a few months in to their…relationship. Severus had a few…unbecoming marks on his neck, and the collars of his robes didn't quite do their job. Unfortunately for him, that sort of gossip gets around very fast. Naturally, with Narcissa around the manor, I had heard all about Severus' supposed illicit affair. Fortunately for him, the Dark Lord didn't set any stock in gossip…yet.   
  
When I asked him, he led me on a merry little dance all around the subject, which was proof enough for me. I let the subject drop. It would do no good to have any of the others hear the conversation. Why? Must you really ask? Very well. I was…fond of Severus. He was enjoyable to talk to. He had a very quick wit and sharp tongue, no one can deny it. He kept me on my toes. I appreciated that about him. Are you happy? Was that sufficient for you? Very well. Good day.   
  
One more thing? What could it possibly be? Did he love him? I don't think it's a question of whether or not Severus loved Potter. That much is obvious. I think the most pertinent question is: did your Gryffindor golden-boy love him? 


	6. I Know

Title: Because You Smiled, Part Six: I Know  
Author: La Mort Cramoisi  
Pairing: JP/SS  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Nothing real offensive here, but watch out anyway. I started crying when I was writing it, and it's my damn story!  
Summary: James finally gets to make his side of the story heard, all of it, and what a story it is. The musings of a man long dead but not yet free to rest.  
A/N: I finally did it. This chapter was such a bitch to write, not because I was stuck, but because every time I started on came the water works. It's good but sad that I affect myself so with my own story. I hope I haven't lost you guys while you were waiting for me. Sorry it took so long. I've started my next venture, a James-centric AU *dodges flying tomatoes* about what would have happened if (avoiding OoTP spoilers here) someone else had been the Boy-Who-Lived. It's gonna be a long one, I've got about thirteen pages and that's not the whole first chapter. But now, on with the story. Read, and enjoy. *bows*  


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I'm dead. I have more freedom, and less power, than I could ever have imagined. I'm not a ghost, no. I didn't want to walk that path. I'm just…a shade. A shadow of the once living, unable to find my peace and unable to move on. I was ready to die…there's just…something I haven't done yet! Something…but I don't know what it is. I don't know what I want from myself. It's…sort of pathetic, really.  
  
I guess…I could tell the story. I could relive a life I never want to look back upon, a life I never wanted to live in the first place. Perhaps, I have to. Perhaps it's the only way…  
  
I was never a happy child. I was a fantastic actor, but I was never a happy child. Sirius, with all of the expectations his parents had for him, would never have noticed all of the expectations mine had for me. I did my best, I applied myself. I study hard, but I was always in trouble because I played harder. When I was growing up, my only friend was a boy, about half a year younger than me, by the name of Severus Snape. My parents were none to happy about that. His parents were known for their arguments, and some called his father the town drunk. He didn't expect anything much of me. I was never as smart as him, at least during those first years, and he treated me as though he had to take care of me. I liked it. No one ever treated me like they I knew I depended on them. No one ever treated me like I was allowed to need somebody. It was…nice.  
  
Everything changed when…when I met Sirius Black for the first time. Severus was helping me move my trunk, I couldn't get it into the compartment and he was showing me how like I was a five year old and bemoaning my stupidity. He did that a lot, but we understood each other. I knew he loved it. So we're blocking up the hallway and Sirius Black shows up. He had another boy behind him, short and timid looking. It turned out to be Remus. Sirius told Snape off, and then when Severus explained that he had to help me and it would only be a minute Sirius punched him in the face. Then he said to me, "If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't be associating with bad blood like this sorry waste of flesh. Everybody knows his father's a drunk and his mother's a whore. Assuming of course that that is his real father." Sev' took one look at Sirius' face and ran off. I think he might have been crying. I couldn't follow him because my trunk was blocking the path. Then Remus told me that I couldn't depend on people. I never understood why until I found out about his lycanthropy. They made me get my trunk into the compartment by myself, even though it was much too heavy for me to lift alone. Remus said that I would have to learn how to manage eventually. I…guess he was right.  
  
We arrived at the school, and I tried to talk to Sev' before we were sorted. He wouldn't have any of it. He spat in my face and told me that I should just go crawling back to my new friends before he tried a new curse on me. I thought I should just let him be. I thought he would calm down. I've never been more wrong in my life.  
  
Eventually, the combined pressure of my parents, my professors, and my new "friends" won out. I forgot all about Severus. Sometime after that, I don't know when, he became Snape to me. Eventually, I surpassed Sirius' inherent cruelty. That was around the beginning of Second year, I think. Soon, the school had a new master. I was trouble, and everyone knew it. But most of all, I was troubled, and no one seemed to realize. My bold, rash behaviour fit Gryffindor patterns perfectly. I was just like everyone else. I realize in hindsight that I was sorted into Gryffindor for being different than them, not for being the same. At first, I wanted to apologize to Snape so badly it ached. I wanted friendship with someone who was very different and never accepted. It was the bravest thing I've ever did. Being in Gryffindor didn't make me brave, I made me a coward. Even though I've complained about the relationship I first had with my new friends, I will always count them as my friends. They were not at fault, I was. I allowed myself to change for the worst, they didn't make me change.  
  
Two people saw me for what I really was: Severus, and Lily Evans. Eventually, out of what I thought was want for Lily, I became a shadow of my old self again. I could never lose all of the bad habits, or the nasty temper, I had acquired, but I could control them, and Lily came to love me. I realise now that it was probably for want of my old self that I was drawn to her, not for want of her.  
  
We came across Severus one day in Hogsmeade, after we had graduated. Peter had just told us some rumours about him, and I was furious. In hindsight I suppose I should have wondered about where Peter had heard those rumours, but that is hardly important anymore. Seeing Sev', not Snape or Severus, I saw Sev' that day, made me ache all over again. It was like the wound created when he ran off in First year was opened all over again, and someone was pouring salt in it. I don't really know what happened after that, I don't remember it. All I remember is dropping Sev' on the ground and Lily making a fuss over the scene I had made. I seem to recall that I didn't terribly care.  
  
Later, Sev' told me about the Mark, and about Dumbledore. I forgave him. I don't know why. I shouldn't have. I know that now. It ruined my life, forgiving him. Things would have been better if I hadn't known how I felt about him. Things would have been…less complicated.  
  
We became lovers. I don't know how it happened. It just…did. He had been my first real friend, and now he was my first real partner. Lily hardly counted. It was…duty that kept me by her side. I loved her yes, but more as a friend or a sister. I didn't burn for her the way I burned for Sev'. And burn for him I did. It actually hurt not to be around him. I believe it was the life debt between us. We were connected on the deepest level two people can be connected. It's only natural that we became lovers, really. Part of me was missing, but in bed with him that part was returned to me. When I saved his life, I gave him the best part of me. All of my courage and compassion lay with him, unnoticed and untapped by it's new owner. I believe that is why a wizard is more likely to let a fellow person die than save their life. No one wants to give up the best part of themselves. No one wants to make that sacrifice for another. I have just come to understand why I cannot leave this world. Severus holds part of within him. I am confused and unhappy because I am not whole, but Sev' is here now and I shall be whole soon. He kneels on my grave, opens the flask, and drinks deeply. Then he lays down, twisting the grass in his fingers the way he used to twist my hair. I could not stop him if I wanted to, but I don't want to. He must have hurt easily as much as I have all these years. He feels it too, the calling between us. I wonder if he burns for me? Does he actually ache when we are apart? It doesn't matter anymore.  
  
I watch as he passes through the thin veil between the world of the living and the realm of the spirits. I stand, and hold my arms out. I forgive him. I smile. He stands to meet me, leaving his body, his insignificant shell, behind. We hold each other, and I am whole. He looks up at me, eyes bright with tears, and tells me he is sorry. I bring my fingers to his lips. "I know", I tell him. I know. And then I whisper in his ear the words the I should have said long ago, the thing that holds me to this world: "I love you." He brings his fingers to my lips. "I know"  


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